The Weasley Files
by ladyoftheknightley
Summary: An ongoing series of one-shots about my favourite Wizarding family, the Weasleys! 1: Ginny seeks Fleur's advice when her relationship heads to the next level. 2: Ron is cornered by a spider, and has to be rescued.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and everything associated are property of JK Rowling, not me, and even if you intend to sue me for copyright infringement, I am a student so red hair is not the only thing I share with the Weasleys...

**A/N: **this is going to be something of a dumping ground for all the fics I write about the Weasley family (and there are a _lot _of those because I love them so). They'll all be interconnected in as much as they'll be canon stories about the Weasley family, but other than that, there won't be any particular rhyme or reason to the order I post them, and they can be read in any order, too. So. Yeah. This should be updated with some frequency (shocker...) at first because I am still transferring all my fics from tumblr onto here (ladyknightley dot tumblr dot com if you're interested), and, as I said, I write about the Weasleys a lot...

* * *

_Prompt: Ginny and/or Hermione turn to fleur for advice when their relationship(s) head toward the next level_

"I mean, I know I should talk to my Mum about this sort of thing, but she's just...I don't know, she's kind of from a different generation."

"They do things differently, _non_?"

"They do! So just...well, thank you very much for helping me out."

"Pfft, it ees nothing. 'Ere is the potion, it should sort you out for now."

"Oh, _thank you_. I just had no idea who to turn to—like I said, I didn't want to ask Mum, and Hermione'd just tell Ron and then the rest of my brothers would find out and—Merlin, can you _imagine_?"

Fleur's response to this was lost in the scraping of a chair, and Bill felt—momentarily—guilty. He didn't mean to listen at doors, but he had to admit to being intrigued: though Fleur and Ginny got on much better now, he was still surprised to find there was something she'd talk to his wife about that she wouldn't share with her brothers or mother.

"Does it often hurt?" Fleur was asking now.

"Yes," came Ginny's response. "Sometimes a _lot _worse than others, but it always hurts."

Fleur hummed thoughtfully, and Bill pulled away from the closed kitchen door in alarm. It sounded like they were talking about...but no, they couldn't be. Could they?

"And it doesn't bother you that it 'as always been like this?"

"You mean, why haven't I mentioned anything about the pain before? Like I said, I don't really want to ask my Mum about it. And it's not like I think Hermione would tell the whole world, but she and Ron share _everything_ so I think she'd maybe let it slip at some point, by accident... Also, I have mentioned it a little to her before now but she says it doesn't hurt for her, so...well, it's alright for some!"

"Well, I am glad you feel you can ask me for 'elp," Fleur said gently. "I can share with you my...'ow you say...tips and tricks for making it easier, yes?" Bill's eyes narrowed. He was all for Fleur helping out Ginny in a sisterly way, but giving her advice on..._that_ was not something he could support. And they had to be talking about..._that_, didn't they?

He shuddered. He could barely think the word in relation to Ginny; he was _never_ going to have daughters.

"The thing is, it's been going on for years now," Ginny was saying conversationally.

Bill gaped, literally speechless. He had been planning on murdering Harry, but now it seemed there would be a whole host of boys that would have to be dealt with._Years_! She wasn't even seventeen yet!

"'Ave you considered a contraceptive potion?" Fleur inquired. Good on her, Bill found himself thinking, for taking this all so calmly. She was very good, his wife, very calm. She could cope with anything...

"I don't know," Ginny said. "Hermione did mention something about a muggle pill that can help, but..."

"Yes, some of my muggleborn friends at school explained that to me," Fleur said. "The potion works in a similar way, but this pill, I think you 'ave to take every day. The potion you take once a week, but it does the same thing. It is a...'ow to say...birth control method, but it can help in that other way. It eases things, makes them hurt less."

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Fleur responded at once. "I started it when I was fifteen, and it made things so less painful. It 'elped me so much. I can only recommend it to you."

"I hear what you're saying, I really do," said Ginny. "But I'm just a bit unsure about...well...I'm just not sure I should be taking contraceptives, you know? I just think that at my age—"

"If you are going to be doing _that_ with your boyfriend," Bill said, bursting into the room unable to stand it any longer, "you'd bloody well better make sure you're using contraceptives! You're far too young to be having sex, but if you _are_, you have to take responsibility. No babies! Not from you!"

Ginny and Fleur both shrieked when he barged in, and Ginny herself began to turn as red as he had ever seen her. "I—I'm not—" she began to stutter, but it was Fleur, looking more furious than she ever had before, who grabbed him by the arm and led him forcefully back into the hallway. She slammed the kitchen door shut, cast a _silencio_ and rounded on him before he had a chance to speak.

"You are _unbelievable_!" she said, and he physically backed away from her. "Your sister, she came to me because she is 'aving the problems with 'er...'ow you say...lady cycles, and she wanted me to 'elp! And you know, this ees the first time she opens up to me like this, and you barge in and embarrass 'er like that! 'Ow did you even know of what we were talking?! Did you listen at the door?"

Bill muttered something incomprehensible.

"You _did_! Oh, you are terrible! Your poor sister, she 'as things bad enough, and then you embarrass 'er and make assumptions, and you—_oh_! You are _terrible_!" She jabbed him in the chest with her finger, still fiercely glaring, and Bill held his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, okay? I just—I know it's wrong, but I panicked, sort of. I heard her talking about pain, and it going on for years and I just thought... And then _you _started talking about contraceptives, and—"

"Any fool knows that contraceptive potions can 'elp a woman who suffers in that way," Fleur scoffed. "She cannot come to you or any of 'er other brothers to ask for 'elp because you either do nott know or you would laugh at 'er and 'urt 'er. You should not 'ave been listening at doors to private conversations, but if you must, then you must not jump to these conclusions. Any woman would 'ave known in_seconds_ what it ees we are on about!"

"I know, I know, you're completely right," Bill said, deciding very quickly that complete agreement was the best form of defense. "But when I made that mistake—when I thought she was talking about sex, and you know she's just got together with Harry—well...imagine if it was Gabrielle!"

Fleur's eyes narrowed. "It would not be Gabrielle at this age because she ees_twelve_! But if she was older, and she was asking for advice on _that_ matter, I would 'elp 'er, too! And before you say _anything_—you were the same age as Ginny when you first started sleeping with women."

"Yes, but it's diff—"

"Don't you _dare_ say it's different for girls because I was the same age too, and you knew that when you married me. What your sister does ees 'er business—well, Harry's too, if she ees doing it with him. You do not get to say _anything_. Now," Fleur said, drawing herself up, "you must apologise."

"I'm so very sorry," he began.

"Not to me, you fool! To Ginny!" Fleur exclaimed. "And if you _dare_ make 'er feel embarrassed or ashamed about 'er...womanly problems, you will be sleeping on the sofa from 'ere to eternity, you understand?!"

"Yes, Fleur, I understand," he said meekly, opening the kitchen door. "Ginny?"

His sister looked up at him, suddenly seeming much younger than sixteen.

"Ginny, I'm really sorry for barging in on your private discussion like that," he said. "I know it must be difficult, your...uh...I mean, your...ah..."

"Painful periods?" Ginny asked, smiling sweetly. He heard Fleur snort, and winced

"Yes, that. But I'm glad you have someone to advise you on these matters," he said, then realised he had turned into Percy. Ginny was smirking. "Look, I'm sorry for making those kind of assumptions. I'm just glad that you have Fleur to help out with those sorts of things. And I'm sorry you have to go through it. It can't be fun."

"It isn't," Ginny said. "Apology accepted, though." He smiled, relieved. "But, what did you think we were talking about?" she asked, blinking.

"Oh, come _on_, Gin," he said. She did the innocent angel face she could pull off so well (surprisingly), and Fleur poked him. "Ow! I just thought that the two of you were talking about...you know...well, _you know_!" He had no idea why it was suddenly so hard for him to say the word 'sex', but it was.

Ginny shrugged and blinked again, and he felt like he'd achieved something in not shaking her. Growing up the youngest, and the only girl, she'd become truly excellent at making her brothers feel uncomfortable...

"I just thought that you were talking to Fleur about contraceptives because you and Harry are...taking your relationship to the next level," he said, as first Ginny, then Fleur began to giggle. "However," he continued, trying to maintain the most dignified tone possible, "I am very glad you feel you are able to talk to Fleur about these sorts of issues, when such events do end up occurring. And I am sorry that I insinuated they are occurring now."

"I'm so glad you feel this way," Ginny said, mimicking his Percy-esque tone. "It is very good to know I have your full support. Because they _are_ occurring now!"

It took him a moment, but then he closed his eyes in horror—entirely missing the wink Ginny gave Fleur.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **still not mine. And not my prompt, either: "Ron is cornered by a spider, and is rescued by a character of your choice " (from an anon on tumblr). Don't read if arachnophobia troubles you :)

* * *

"Okay. Don't panic. But. We have a _situation_."

"...like the time we lost twelve crates of Headless Hats because _someone_ cocked up the invisibility charms?"

"Worse."

"Shit...are we talking having to write stock off? Why? How much?"

"We have to write off all the stock in this shop, burn it to the ground and use the insurance money to open on new premises. I know you were mooting Hogsmeade last month, but I'm thinking we're going to have to further than that. Like Antarctica, maybe."

"What the hell are you going on about?!"

"There is a spider back there."

"_Ron_. It is a bug. You're six two. Step on it."

"This is a _big_ spider though."

"Is it comparable in size to a Hippogriff?"

"Probably _two_ Hippogriffs."

"Christ almighty."

"Can you please just deal with it?"

"I am genuinely amazed that you are married."

"Me too. But _please_ just do something."

"Fine," George said. "Fine! I can see why you quit the Aurors—"

"Oh ha, ha."

"—but I am glad that the safety of our country is no longer reliant on someone who cannot deal with something that has more legs than he does."

"That's not true," Ron called, as his brother made his way into the back room. "I get on with Crookshanks quite well now."

Whatever George's response might have been, it was lost in a sudden clanging and crashing, the sort of noise made when far too many bottles of probably expensive products smashed on the ground. Seconds later he stumbled out of the stock room, slamming the door behind himself, wearing the expression of a man who has looked pure terror in the eye and barely lived to tell the tale.

"I'm pretty sure that spider is so large several of its limbs are in different postcodes. That is a _big_ spider."

"Told you."

"Bastard's got my wand."

"Bastard's got my tea! In my favourite mug, too."

"I think a wand is more important—wait, how did it get your tea?"

"I'd put it down on the shelf, right, whilst I went through the inventory for yesterday's delivery, and I'd just opened the first box when I saw…the thing." He shuddered.

"Looked right into every one of its sixteen eyes, did you?"

"Ah, shut it. How'd you even leave it with your wand?"

"I, ah, dropped it. When it practically jumped on me."

"Pillock."

George narrowed his eyes. "Right then. Of you go. Sort out the spider, Ronniekins. You've got the weapon. I mean, the wand."

"...you can borrow it?"

"And this is the calibre of men they send into the Aurors..."

"Er. The women are much better?"

"It'd be hard to be worse. Hey—that's an idea."

"What is?"

"We could call the Aurors out. It's not like we don't both have connections there."

"That's not a terrible idea."

"What's not a terrible idea? And _what_ was all that crashing I just heard, and _why_ are you both sitting out here on the floor when there's work to be doing? You've got three shop assistants running themselves ragged out there and you two are acting like you're on some kind of yoga retreat. Get out there and help!" Angelina seemed to tower over them, stood as she was with her hands on her hips and a glare on her face and on normal days, Ron would've gone out of his way not to cross her. But this was no normal day.

"In order: calling out the Aurors; sixteen boxes of stock falling to the floor; and because we have found the inner calm of men who have reconciled themselves to pure terror," George replied.

She turned to Ron.

"There is a spider."

Angelina rolled her eyes so hard he could practically hear them rattle.

"This is a _large_ spider," Ron protested. "I have seen small toddlers, to be honest."

She looked like she was considering this. "I will forgive _you_," she said slowly, "only because I am aware of your…previous history and therefore phobia of eight-legged creatures. _You_ on the other hand…!" She turned the full power of her glare towards George, who ordinarily would have trembled before it, but today stood firm.

"If you get rid of it, I will make sure that when we go on holiday next month, you get a lie-in every single morning and I will look after the kids next time they get ill. _And_ I'll buy you those red shoes you fancied in Gladrags the other day," he said.

Angelina raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? All that for a spider?"

"I am deadly serious," George said, and Ron nodded, for moral support.

"Well, okay. Fine." She walked towards the door, then paused and turned back. "If I go in there, is something going to…to fall on my head?"

"Please," George said. "You're talking to the co-owners of Wheezes'. Don't you think we'd come up with something a little more sophisticated than that?!"

"No, but whatever." Angelina pulled the door to the stockroom open and both Ron and George leapt backwards. She sighed, and disappeared inside, the door swinging closed behind her.

A second later, they heard a scream which was hastily turned into a cough, a couple of light crashes, some muffled and rather creative swearing, and a pop.

"Um," said Ron, eying the door, "do you think we should go in and help?"

"She'd…she'd probably call out for us if she was in trouble," George said, but he did look faintly concerned.

"Yeah…" He felt guilty, sending Angelina in to deal with a spider for him when he was a thirty year old man…but it was a _big_ spider. And she was George's partner, not his. If it had been Hermione in there...

But George looked like he was stealing himself even more than Ron had to when Rose asked him to get rid of a tiny little moneyspider, "Are you okay?"

"That is a _big_ spider," George said, by way of response.

"I know? But I've never been good with spiders, especially ones of that size. But you..." he trailed off, quirking an eyebrow.

"I don't like spiders either!" he responded, clearly under duress. Ron raised an eyebrow. "When we cursed your Teddy Bear, obviously it upset you. But...truth be told...we were kind of...horrified by it ourselves."

"It was a _big_ spider," Ron agreed.

"A _big_ spider," George nodded. "Fred and I...well, we both were kind of terrified by it ourselves, to be totally honest. And now, now I'm alright with the little ones, but big ones like that monster...no thank you."

"Huh," said Ron. He wouldn't have minded—almost—had the twins and, latterly, George, not spent years making fun of him for his own phobia.

"I know. We were kind of arseholes."

"You _were_ arseholes."

"Yeah. But so were you sometimes."

"I guess."

"And I'm sorry. Fred was too, though he never said. Mostly because we ended up having nightmares about the whole ordeal too, but, y'know..."

Ron laughed. "Every cloud..."

"Yeah. And you know what? The real story here is that two grown men are cowering in the corner whilst the lady fair deals with—"

"I'm back."

"Angelina!"

"You got rid out it? _How_?" Ron asked with undisguised awe.

"Well," she said, blowing out a huge breath. "I didn't want to kill it because it was frigging massive and I would be scared of bringing all its spider friends in to wreak havoc on me as some kind of karmic revenge, _so_ I shrunk it down really small with my wand, conjured a glass to trap it in, apparated away to the fields where your parents live, set it free, reversed the shrinking spell and apparated back as quickly as I could."

"So pretty standard, really," George said.

"_Wow_," said Ron.

"You seriously owe me, though," Angelina replied. "I'm not even bothered by insects, but _that _was a big one."

"Technically, it's an arachnid."

"_Technically_, you can sort it out yourself next time," she said, glaring.

"I would've," George said, shrugging casually, "but I just wanted to see what you were made of, you know? Did you at least remember to pick up my wand for me, useless woman?"

"Your wand? I don't—_oh my God, spider_!" she screamed, throwing something towards him.

George jumped a straight foot in the air, swearing loudly as the thing brushed the front of his shirt, and Ron lurched sideways out of the firing line, fully prepared to scramble up the back staircase to get away if required—then started laughing at the smug look on Angelina's face, and the sheepish expression on George's.

"Next time, I'll apparate your wand halfway across the country and lock you in with the bugger," she said, marching off upstairs with a wave.

"She bloody would as well," George said, reluctantly impressed.

"I know," Ron said, already halfway through the door leading back into the shop. "Righto! I'll get back to the shopfloor, and you can poke around in there and do the delivery inventory. Don't forget to call Ange if there's any more spiders! I'm sure she'll be well up for helping you out!"


End file.
